


It's Our Turn To Light Another

by blanchtt



Series: 500X LEDA [7]
Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Canon Timeline, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-10
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-10-17 10:02:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10591722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blanchtt/pseuds/blanchtt
Summary: Something in her hurts, and the lactic acid is already lead in her legs, but Helena pushes on.





	

**Author's Note:**

> #339 - highway to hell

 

 

 

The road beckons, straight and clear to her right as she crests the hill and leaves them all behind. But for that very reason she shies away from it, veers sharply toward the forest, and uses the downhill angle to speed up.

 

Something in her hurts, and the lactic acid is already lead in her legs, but Helena pushes on.

 

She tries not to crash through the trees as she reaches the forest, though she’s being louder than she likes as she dodges around trunks, twigs snapping underfoot and her ragged breath thunderous to her own ears. It’s tougher going than a road, of course – the toe of her stiff cowboy boot catches on a gnarled root, nearly tripping her up, and she slips on a slimy patch of leaves not far after, nearly careening into a thick trunk and skinning a palm on the bark as she pushes out, breaks her fall. But for the troubles the forest gives her, it gives to the men following her, too. And they are many, and have guns.

 

She pauses only once, just as the voices have faded away, and reaches down, grabs the trailing ends of the lacy white dress along with more than a few shards of leaves entangled in it, and bunches the frabic in a fist, yanks it up and stands and keeps running. It leaves her legs largely bare to whatever low branches she runs into, whip-sharp against her skin. But it is easy to ignore though, and she slows, goes from a sprint to a more determined pace, and sucks in air through slack lips. There are no road signs to follow back to the city, but she’s been in direr straights.

Sarah, though, Helena thinks, may not be so fortunate. Sarah's name is short and fits the footsteps of her pace, pushing her on, because her legs are dead-heavy. But Helena ignores them, swallows a bubble of spit and keeps going, one foot in front of the other.

 

_Sarah, Sarah, Sarah._

 

She must make it back to Toronto _,_ to _moya sestra_ who is no doubt in trouble, because trouble seems to find them both with uncanny ease.

 

 

 


End file.
